We all have those embarrassing sex stories, those elbow to the eye, granny panties, fell off the bed, and the hit my head on a head board stories. And if you don’t have one frankly I don’t think you’re doing sex right!

But these are usually personal. One person fell off the bed, one person burped in the others mouth, and so on.

So rather then telling about what I think is an embarrassing sex story that has happened to me, and believe me there are lots! I thought I’d try to think of what awkward, funny, disastrous sex moment I’ve had that would be the other persons most embarrassing….

Some time ago I was having sex (that’s sorta has to be in this story doesn’t it) and it was good, wonderful and every word you can think of to replace “great”.

Basically, we can say I was very much enjoying myself.

He was ontop and therefore I was below him (the classic missionary) and all of a sudden I feel this strange pressure building up in my lady parts. It was odd, different, not like any feeling I’ve felt like before.

I gave him a funny face as he continued with his ‘business’.

“ummm” my face kind of twisted.

“You ok you want me to stop” he stops but still ontop of me.

“Ummm…..No, but….something feels strange.”

“Bad strange or good strange?” he seemed concerned but obviously his blood wasn’t going to his brain at this moment.

“Kind of bad strange, it kind of hurts”

He backs up, and this pressure that had been building stops, kind of rushes out of me in a strange ‘I don’t know this feeling’ kind of way. And then I notice everything is all wet….

I sorta backup, sit up, and look down.

“Did you just?….Baby! I think you peed in me?!” I say as this look of shock and embarrassment comes over him, and he hides his head and rolls over.

And I of course can do nothing but start to laugh….

SIDEBAR: Apparently guys aren’t supposed to be able to urinate while having an erection, however, my Google searches have proved otherwise….and so has this personal experience.

FACT: I guess this means I’ve dabbled in water sports, although I didn’t ask too.

SIDEBAR: This is also a story I’ve sat on for a while. I’ve struggled with on so many levels, but in the end putting it out there is always best, or not. But here we go *deep breath*

You, Me, and the Stump equals three! Part One and Two!

I had noticed Elevator-Hottie since I starting working in the building 5 months ago. Ok, I didn’t notice him I straight up stared and maybe drooled at him. This man was hot, and by hot I mean HAWT!

We always seemed to be stuck in the elevator together, most times alone no matter what time of the day.

I simply chalked this up to fate!

We had exchanged a few smiles back and forth (god he had great teeth) but other then that, he watched the elevator TV and I pretended to be doing something important on my phone while I checked out his hot ass in his nice suit!

I worked late that night and as I was leaving the office around 8pm, I clicked the down button.

The door opened and there stood his tall gorgeous frame. (If I were a guy I would’ve got an instant hard on)

He smiled. I quickly looked down at my phone.

Elevator-Hottie: Can I just say something?

I looked up, mouth open from shock and stared at his beautiful face. I did not say anything, I don’t think I even nodded, but may have turned bright red.

Elevator-Hottie: You’re gorgeous! I’d love to take you to dinner sometime, if you’d like and are available.

I keep staring, drool may or may not have fallen from my mouth.

“Ummmm…(What ever I said here was most definitely babble and I fear evening thinking about it. I’ve blocked it from my memory)”

Elevator-Hottie: Can I get your card?

“Umm…yeah…sure” I fumbled for a card.

Elevator-Hottie: “I always wondered what you did at ‘the magazine with boobies’……”

His voice trailed off as he got off the elevator. I was planted firmly in my place still in shock and awe from the fact he even talked to me. ME!?! Did he just ask me out? HE asked ME, (ME?!) out!?!

The elevator doors closed!

SIDEBAR: I am an idiot!

I press the button the doors open (as I am already on the first floor). I walk out he is gone and there is Tom my favorite of our night security desk guys. “Smooth, very smooth!” He says with a smile.

I blew it! I totally blew it! Oh well.

But I get a phone call that night, and it was Elevator-Hottie. Seriously, I was now staring to believe in this ‘fate’ stuff.

Our first date was to be an after work drink. Although in all honesty I didn’t go to work till the end of day cause I was picking out the perfect outfit, getting my hair just right, doing nails, and all the girl (yes sometimes I’m like that) stuff!

We had a seemingly perfect first date. We had great conversation, I didn’t get to drunk (a usual first date flaw on my part) we ended up grabbing dinner, all in all a great date. As we were saying our goodbyes he gave me a “had a great time” accompanied by a pat on the shoulder.

He hates me. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that third drink, maybe I talked to much, I probably swore to much, maybe it’s cause I made fun of him…..urg such is my life!

But he called me. And he kept calling me.

Now Elevator-Hottie was everything you’d want in a man, especially in a Manhattan man. Tall, unbelievable handsome, very well educated, good family, owned his own apartment with a park view (and not stand on the toilet  in the bathroom tilt your head kind of view, we’re talking a view!) He had great job, and he even a summer house.

Date number 12 rolls around and the most action I’ve gotten is a peck on the lips and a pat on the back hug. And a few flower arrangements sent to my office.

I mean come on, a girl cant wait forever. In my dating world 12 dates is pretty much an engagement! So you better pony up! I was so confused by the situation, and never been in one like this before. Plus, I like sex so I was alittle upset on that front too.

I was also struggling with him because as perfect on paper as he may have been. He really didn’t make me laugh. OK, I shouldn’t say that he was funny he would make any normal girl laugh alot. But I need and want a guy who makes me spit out my drink, maybe pee my pants just alittle bit laugh! (It’s a requirement)

My friends all pushed me towards the ‘perfect on paper’ and said to ignore the other details.

Oh right, I’m forgetting that one other detail. You see for all his great perfect on paper points, there’s one little thing he didn’t have.

One quality mister-perfect-elevator-hottie-on-paper was missing.

Actually, it was more of an appendage then a quality. You see Elevator-Hottie was missing his left leg below the knee. He had a prosthetic, no leg, a whatever you want to call it………There was no leg!

So I rationalized his lack of physical contact as a shyness of his stump.

Maybe it was all scared up and nasty! Maybe it was shaped funny. Maybe he was scared I’d want to lick it during foreplay.

All I knew was if he didn’t take my pants off on this our 14th date, it’s over.

Leg or no leg : Over!

I get a Text message: Instead, why don’t you come over and we’ll order in and watch a movie.

Thank you Jesus! Come over and watch a movie IS and has always been code for come over and have sex!

But now I was terrified. I frantically spent hours googling sex with one legged men, and so on. These results turned up nothing but scary porn, and creepy craigslist ads.

This was it. You see if the sex is amazing, I guess I can get over the lack of gut hurting laugher. Plus, I was starting to really like him. NowI was more nervous then excited.

I show up at his apartment. I walk in the door and he jumps me. Wow! Like throws me against the wall, jumps me.

Where did this guy come from?

Lips are intertwined, arms are throwing and ripping off clothes. This one legged Hottie was on a mission! And his mission was me!

We take this action into the bedroom. We’re doing it, and we’re doing it. Oh and we’re doing it! And it was really great. And did I mention the view of the park from the bedroom!? The whole thing was hot and amazing!

I’m in the moment. Really in the moment, and then he decides he wants to take a trip…downtown !

And as I lay there with my eyes closed enjoying his downtown adventure I hear a soft whisper in my ear.

“She’s good isn’t she.”

I look over. I look down. I look over. I look down. I look…I look DOWN!

And there between my legs is this mass of grey hair.

I jump back! So fast and hard I hit the headboard and the back of my head started to bleed.

There at the foot of the bed is this …..Old Lady.

Now not just old, we’re talking tales from the crept, old lady boobs to her knees, fucking Old Lady OLD!

As I’m picking up my stuff I’m speechless. More shocked then when he asked me out in the elevator. I kept looking at him and his perfect body his mouth was moving, something about it being ok, how he wants me to stay. I kept looking at her with her really not perfect body saying something about how he was right I am really pretty.

And I couldn’t say anything. Maybe it was just the surprise of it, maybe it was the feeling that I was pretty much just violated by an old woman, or maybe it’s because I hit my head so hard I was pretty sure I was dying of a brain bleed. I was shaking and in shock, and just wanting to leave.

As I ran out in my jacket, one shoe and holding everything else I came in with. I walked into the bar across the street asked where the bathroom was and said I was coming back for shots!

As I put my clothes on I held back tears. I don’t know why exactly, but I had never wanted to be more loved and cherished by a man then in that moment. It sounds odd I know, but all I could think was why couldn’t I meet a nice guy, why does every guy I meet need to be an asshole douchebag or a freak. Why won’t anyone ever just love me. What was wrong with me?

Because just when you think someone is perfect on paper you realize their grandmother is doing the book keeping from inside the closet, or under the bed, or wherever one hides a walking swinger of a corpse!

My favorite moments of this trip besides some nice sun therapy and the spa would have to be my late night phone calls with Mr. Popular while sitting on the balcony.

Mr. Popular and I had been chatting/texting/IMing for months, and had had a few in person adventures!

I got home to NYC red and ready to hand in my paper. I also was thinking somewhat dreamy thoughts of Mr. Popular. This was one of the only time I can remember of where I actually really contemplated us as a “couple” and in a real “relationship”.

Problem being I didn’t think he felt the same way at all. I was pretty convinced we had moved into the ever wonderful “friendship” zone. He treated me like a ‘girlfriend’ but just never touched me like one….or at least how I assumed all guys touch their girlfriends.

I was getting ready to go to bed early, as I get tired from plane rides, and I get a phone call.

Mr. Popular is in my hood and right up the street. He wants to come over and see me. Holy shit balls!

We talked laughed and joked around for hours into the night. Just lying on my bed talking. Only times he got off the bed was to take a smoke break. His smoke breaks consited of him at my window, stradling my ratiator so he was half out the window and half inside the bedroom.

As the hours flew by I became more and more convinced we dove deeper into the “friend zone” and pretty soon the sun was close to coming up.

SIDEBAR: I was pretty cool with friend zone, but starting to question his sexuality at this point. What guy lies in bed for hours with a girl and doesn’t try anything?

We were laying talking laughing and then all of a sudden he leans in and kissed me.

There it was! Wow!

“Did you just kiss me?”

He kissed me again!

And then he stopped stared in my eyes and jumped up!

“I have to go!”

He bolted, ran, left quicker then Kiefer Sutherland throws back a shot of whiskey.

And I went to bed with the sun coming up feeling rejected: Sad, lonely, and rejected.

Until I awoke to find I had company in bed with me.

There were feathers and bird poo all over as pigeons had flown in and taken up residence in my room through his open “smoke break” window.

Maybe first kiss birds really do appear. And maybe sometimes in the form of gross dirty New York City pigeons!

Now unless my father asks this post is about me losing my virginity. If he asks this is a guest post by some dirty sinner! (Shame on you dirty sinner!)

People who know me are always surprised when the topic of “first times” comes up, and age is thrown on the table.

I was a late bloomer, not as late as other people I know, but to the masses I probably am.

I lost my virginity to “firstguy” when I was 19. There was nothing particular exciting, special or interesting about that evening, except I was 19. It was my birthday.

FACT: This is NOT the reason I dislike celebrating my birthday.

We were in my parent’s basement watching a movie. Braveheart, I only remember the movie cause ‘firstguy’ had a love for watching the same movies over and over again. Braveheart was one of these. I’ve seen that movie far more times then I would like to admit. (Far too many in like a two-year period)

Somewhere between Mel Gibson speaking with a Scottish accent and someone dying we had sex.

That is all I remember. No real detail about what was said or what was done, we just did more than the usual. And at that time more then the usual meant sex.

You always hear about sex hurting, and being painful and all that jazz. I don’t clearly remember that but if my memory serves me correctly I’d like to say that my first time as a girl didn’t hurt, or at least it didn’t cause me pain. But it was uncomfortable.

Kind of like when you tie your shoe too tight. You know that it doesn’t feel right, it’s alittle uncomfortable and it hurts to walk the first few steps, you know you just sense that something you did might not be right. But after that it loosens up and it’s like nothing wrong ever happened.

SIDEBAR: That analogy sounded cleaner in my head.

So there it was I was 19. One year older. I could vote, drink, and I wasn’t a virgin.

‘Firstguy’ was terrible at alot of things. Gifts were one of them, unless you count flowers. That boy bought me more flowers than Kiefer Sutherland buys rounds of shoots.

It was my birthday (and my first time) and all my boyfriend got me was cake, a Mr.Bean teddy-bear, Mel Gibson and a broken hymen.

Now as KB mentions there are music has this wonderful ability to invoke memories.  Whether they are of life, family, history, and yes relationships.  She composed a list of her “life playlist” not just limited to relationships.  I have those songs too, but more so I have that with artists.  Every time I hear Frank Sinatra I think of car trips with my parents, when my brother who was maybe 5 at the time would sing Sinatra songs non stop for hours in the car (my parents thought it was cute, I at the time thought I had the worst family ever, but as long as he didn’t look out “my” window we were cool) I can’t not think of my best friend “PAL” when I hear John Lennon, or my mother when I hear The Doors, and Men at Work makes me think of Amsterdam.

Yes, There is something very wonderful about listing songs that are the soundtrack to my life, but that list is way to long, and never ending, and honestly I just really wouldn’t know where to start.

So let us stick to things I do well: talk about all the crazy boys that have come in and out of my life. So here is a list of 13 songs that will forever posses the power to make me reminisce about boys, or actually just one boy (well not all one boy but one boy per song, well there are some repeats)

FACT: the ex’s entire cannon of music could make up it’s own post. I may or may not have included one below.

Truly, Madly, Deeply – Savage Garden

(Oh silly silly high school “love”. This was also my prom theme)

Why Can’t I? – Liz Phair

(I fell “in like” hard with an Austrian Tennis Player while traveling through Europe..I know it’s so cliché I can’t deal.  I had never heard this song at the time, but he one day turned to me and said this song made him think of me, and now it makes me think of him)

So What Does It All Mean – Johnny Was

(Oh, I can’t even go there. The first boy who made an effort and pursued me….it has absolutely nothing to do with the Walk To Remember movie ..it’s on the soundtrack)

What I Got – Sublime

(It reminds me of the first time I fell for a boy and told myself I wasn’t, but also the first time I ever felt good about myself in a relationship)

Addicted – Simple Plan

(Don’t even ask)

Punk Rock Princess – Something Corporate

(Didn’t really workout. However, I’m still looking for someone to be my heroin)

Two Coins – Dispatch

(The first boy who ever played the guitar and sing for me.  It was the start of a long long road of musicians after that, but this song just makes me think of good things and good times and university)

Save Tonight – Eagle-Eye Cherry

(The last song a guy ever played and sang for me on the guitar)

Original Prankster – The Offspring

(This song makes me think of the first time I ever really enjoyed being in a relationship, the first time I just let it all go, plus rockin’ like Janet Reno is all I really want to do)

E.I.  – Nelly

(The boy who I just always had the wrong timing with. “Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” )

Murder the Government – NOFX

(I don’t know why, but it always makes me think of my very first ‘fuck buddy’)

As you Sleep – Something Corporate

(Yes, I am repeating bands. This song will always be attached to the last boy I loved. This is one of my all time favorite songs by one of my all time favorite bands)

You Don’t Mean Anything – Simple Plan

(This song is the one that broke my heart, and it still does)

‘Firstguy’ and his family were moving. And about 5 days before the big move his mom laid down the law. “No seeing Plum till you finish packing up your room”

It seems very very reasonable, but at the time it was the worst thing in the world.  The brilliant solution was that I would help him pack after school till just before his parents came home.

FACT: I did all the packing and he just complained.

One day we were more interested in each other then packing.  One thing leads to another and I ended up in my panties and nothing else. He seemed to have all his clothes.

And all of a sudden we hear something. His mom is home, and home early. Crap-attack! The room was basically empty nowhere to hide.

He looks at me point in one of those ways he would get where I obliged.

“Get in that box!”

My answer now would have been “you’re out of your fucking mind!” My answer then was to curl up in the box/trunk thing.

He then closes the lid. Closes the lid! YES, he did that! And……locked it!

I can hear mumbles, not too much more. A tap on the top of the trunk? My first thought is ‘thank god’ I’m getting out.

Next thing I know I’m swaying in the box. I feel all off balance. And mumbling, more mumbling.

My first thought…I’m going to die.

I hear noises and I’m being banged around. What the What!? I hold back tears and screams.

Next thing I know it is calm.  I’m no longer moving, I don’t hear anyone.  Then all of a sudden there is a loud bang, a few minutes later a strange sound.   I’m trying to pick it out, but it’s hard to.  I then feel a slight vibration. Holy f-ing god! I’m in the moving truck! I’m in the truck!

FACT:  THIS IS A FACT!

I start to cry. I don’t know if I was making a lot of noise, but I was crying, and convinced someone was going to discover my decomposing naked body stuffed in a moving trunk!  I was going to die! Period!

Then we stop, the truck stops, I hear noises. I stop crying. (sorta)

Then nothing and nothing.

Here I am a little hazy on the actual event.  I may have passed out it is very unclear. I do feel like I was in that trunk in their new house for at least 2 hours. That’s my best guess-timation.

I here a noise, a tap on the trunk.  This is either my ‘firstguy’ here to rescue me, or someone else who isn’t prepared to see my boobies.

The trunk opens.  It’s ‘firstguy’! That god!  And he has my clothes! Thank god again!

It’s dark outside!  “Sorry, I couldn’t get away we started dinner.”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!

I put on my clothes and marched myself all the way home!

And from that point on I decided: I will never get into a box or trunk again for a guy! Period!  I’m at least good enough to be provided with a little bubble-wrap first!

SIDEBAR: I did walk myself home, but I should stipulate that ‘firstguys’ family was moving into the house next-door. So it was a short yet purposeful angry walk home!

My mother and I last night on the phone discussed the different paths I’ve taken in life. Or as she put it, “driving in a corn field trying to find the road!” (Oh and don’t forget her constant reminders of how well the economy is doing in Canada)

“I bet you wish you could tell yourself at 18 to do something different!”

“Yeah, mom, but not in the way you think!”

So, if I could tell my 18 year old self 10 words of wisdom from the future what would they be?”

1.  Breakup with ‘firstguy’ now. Like 2 years ago NOW! Walk away, and don’t let your bruised up body turn back!

2. That knee brace you’re supposed to wear while playing sports, wear it! Trust me.

3. The car was blue. I know you think it was green, but it was blue! Remember that.

4. GM shares: sell now. Yup, I mean it sell sell sell now!

5. Moving off campus into a house with 7girls is not, and never will be a good idea.

6.   Take some more business classes!

7.  Write more.

8.  Student government sounds like a good idea. But in reality it isn’t.

9.  Get a breast reduction now. Don’t wait. It will change your life.

10.  Buy a mac computer now!

Which are all actual pickup lines (good or bad, you be the judge) that have been used on me. I started keeping journals of them “a long-long time ago“, during my first year at University.

Like all freshmen away from home we socialized alot, and one thing my girl friends used to point out was how I got hit on by everyone (but mostly real ‘winners’), and it was like guys tried out the worst pickup lines (ever) on me.  My friend ‘Em’ (who sadly I don’t talk to anymore) used to say, “what pickup line love did that guy try?” (Hence the title PULL)

Everyone kept saying I should write them down, and I’d joke that maybe I would, but never did. However, when this incident happened I officially started my PULL journals.

–a long-long time ago–

The first big snowfall of the year was huge my freshman year. Being from northern Canada though I trudged through the snow to my only class, which had not been cancelled. Once it was finished I made my way back to the dorms through the newly cleared limited pathways.

A guy passed me, he nicely smiled as he walked by, and said hello. I smiled back. (He was the only other person on the path back towards the dorms with me)

As we walked (him about 5 feet ahead of me) he kept turning back to look at me, and would smile. He then stopped and bent down to what looked like to tie his shoe. I passed him.

It was cold, and my feet were wet and the campus looked bare.

I’m walking and all of a sudden….BAM! A powerful force out of nowhere bangs into me. I’m face down in a huge pile of snow, and it hurts!

‘Tying’ his Shoe Guy: “Oh god! I’m so sorry!” (He is helping me up, and brushing snow off me while continuing to apologize)

Me: (speechless)

‘Tying’ his Shoe Guy:  I didn’t see you there!

Me: Are you kidding me!? There isn’t anyone else here!..That really hurt. (Continue to wipe snow off myself and collect my belongings, which have flown into a large pile of snow)

‘Tying’ his Shoe Guy: I feel terrible. I really didn’t see you. (continues to apologize)

Me: (eye roll as I finally find my bag in snow)

‘Tying’ his Shoe Guy: Really! I’m so sorry. Can I make it up to you and take you out to dinner sometime. I’d love to take you out.

Me: No, that’s ok. I’m fine, no worries.

‘Tying’ his Shoe Guy: Well I really want to take you to dinner……to say I’m sorry.

Me: Did you just push me in the snow to ask me out!?

(Silence)

Me: Seriously!? How old are we 5?

(And I walked away in a cold-wet-huff)

(reason #___why I’m single: I don’t always give people a chance.)

I always say every guy I’ve ever been serious about has cheated on me. Well all but one, but I always had my doubts about him as well. Now, I didn’t doubt him because other guys had cheated on me, or all guys are douche-bags kind of way. It was more just a feeling I got from him and this might have been one of the reasons we drifted (there are so many other reasons/issues but that’s a novel not a blog post)

So the other night I couldn’t sleep, and my mind was already turning. I needed something to watch/listen too as I rolled over and tried to sleep. I looked through hulu (nothing really was catching my eye), netflixs (nothing either), and then I quickly went to the living room to look at our much to large DVD collection. I for some reason grabbed a DVD I had never watched, a DVD I knew I didn’t really care if I feel asleep during, I mean what could possible happen that I would care about.

I grabbed a documentary filmed with ‘band boy’ and his band as they did a major tour.  I had heard great things about it, remember 14 yearold girls pushing me out of the way to get it signed, but I personally had never watched it. So, I start to watch the 5 boys depart on their world tour adventure.

SIDEBAR: I feel like I need to mention the fact that at the time of this tour ‘band boy’ and I were dating, and I was even lucky enough to go on location too much of said world tour.

I’m watching, I’m watching, I’m watching. I turn over, I close my eyes, and I’m entering sleep. And then…I hear parts of a conversation, I turn over, I hit volume up, and slide my glasses on. I then rewind, then rewind again.

Are you fucking kidding me?!

I watch with my jaw open as the boys are teasing, laughing at, and discussing ‘band boys’ hickey, and the girl he was with the night before.

A hickey!? Are you fucking kidding me! I rewind some more, check location. Yup, ok a hickey in less then 48hours since I had left him/seen him.

So, there you have it.  My one and only ‘maybe’ did indeed cheat on me. It is now official:  Every guy I have ever been in a serious relationship with has indeed cheated on me.

Now my feelings on cheating and such are for another day. All I will say is that the only thing about this that bothers me is he lied to me. Period. That’s the worst part (and even more so because I still consider him a friend) I’m upset with myself, because I knew this, I knew in the back of my head, and in my being that this happened at least once and now it feels like numerous times. I should have trusted myself, and I thought by that point I did, but it turns out no.

I’m very angry with myself about this! I hate when I let my guard down.  I also hate that this is bothering me so much.  BUT, I will say I’m glad I broke the heart of a guy who lets one night stands give hickeys!  Who does that?

It got me thinking. (As I so often do on my train rides home)

So… here is a list of the Top 5 “oh wow, that’s your penis right there” moments, feel free to comment about your own personal ones:

Take Me For a Ride ~ Going home one night (about 4 years ago) on a crowded #1 train the guy standing in front of me (I was sitting) unzipped and pushed his limp penis threw his fly, which slowly grew in front of me…….

Model Love ~ that model guy from almost a year ago who was way to dumb and way to young for me, took me to dinner. A very very nice dinner, at a very nice place. He excused him self to use the restroom and then,

Model: I found something in the bathroom you may like.

Un model like me: I highly doubt that (laughing)

Model guy then removes his hand which is resting near his belt buckle and pocking up from his pants right above his belt and in front of his tucked in shirt is his little friend saying hello.

Take That ~In University, my friend ‘TSS’ and ‘S-Collins’ were in the student lounge with me. ‘TSS’ said something that most likely poked funny at “S-Collins” (I don’t remember what was said, but I do remember us laughing our asses off) And then next thing I know is he has his pants around his ankles in front of her, Takes his penis and slapped her across the face with it. (The laughing stopped for a moment; we lifted our jaws off the floor and continued to laugh even harder)

I’ll Just Keep Driving ~ I was driving back home late from a cousins wedding (has to be like 7 years ago) and had taken a good friend from University as my date. He took full advantage of the free bar, and on the drive home we are talking and then I look over and he’s trying to fit his penis into the tip of a water bottle, cause he had to pee. (He then proceeded to climb into the backseat and try to pee out the window as I was driving on the highway, but that’s another story)

#1 is Where It’s At – It was about two years ago, middle of August, and one of those balls-ass-kill-me-now-nyc summer days! Sitting on the #1 train, which had about 20 people in the car. I notice out of the corner of my eye the man sitting across from me doing something. I take a closer look, and yup there he is masturbating. It proceeded to become one full on masturbating session (this guy really had to work that out, we’re talking moans people) No one really did anything or said anything (besides not sit right next to him) It was defiantly one of those NYC summer moments where you’ll put up with anything on the train cause its got Air-Conditioning and the other option is death.

SIDEBAR: A homesicle is usually used to describe a “homie” that lives with you…Tom does not live with me or vise versa…..(I mean it more like a tom-popsicle…..but not in a dirty way.)

FACT: If you aren’t reading Tom’s foolery over at YOURTANGO, you are missing out!  Case and Point.